This is another in Naïve’s reissue programme of twofers, drawn
from their extensive back catalogue. It’s part of an artist-led marque
- a previous release reviewed by me was devoted to the cellist Anne
Gastinel - that conjoins disparate material in a functional slipcase.
The advantage for the label is that the original packaging is maintained,
the only difference being that magic card case. Thus if you have the concerto
album [V5280] and the Doubles Jeux disc [V5066] you have what’s
here: there are no extra tracks or bonus features.

The concerto album, recorded in 2011, is devoted to Tchaikovsky and Korngold.
Fortunately we don’t get one of those blameless, somewhat superficial
readings of the Tchaikovsky which render them indistinguishable from a dozen
others. Korcia is a highly distinctive player with a large command of tone
colour and is unafraid to launch some pretty resinous attacks. The first
movement cadenza is swept through with passion, offering a foil to the earlier
orchestral introduction marshalled by (fellow fiddler) Jean-Jacques Kantorow,
which is quite strictly military in rhythm. The sweep to the end of the
first movement is exemplary. Lyric and prayerful, the slow movement is not
remotely a nervous wispy thing and come the finale Korcia is off like a
shot, with trademark biting articulation, and a slight tendency to lean
on phrases. His sense of gamesmanship here - in the best sense - is a real
tonic.

Korcia is too personal an artist to be predictable. In any case one would
never expect made-to-measure responses from him in the Korngold Concerto
- and so it proves. He mixes abrasive tone with filmic legato. He is expressive
and languorous in the first movement, which ensures that the sweet and the
sour is held in fine balance, for those for whom the concerto admits the
sour, of course (many won’t take Korcia’s approach at all).
Fruity portamenti are part of this violinist’s arsenal; not the delicate
quick kind either, but full blooded, almost folkloric ones that reinforce
the violinist’s own affinity with, say, Bartók. Maybe he does
too much too early - especially the finger position changes - in the second
movement but there’s plenty of vitality and brio in the finale. Once
again, you’ll never be bored by Korcia - discomfited, occasionally,
perhaps, but not bored.

The companion disc was recorded much earlier, in 2006. It reveals the breadth
of the violinist’s repertoire and the range of his musical colleagues,
which include jazz players and a chansonnier, Jean-Louis Aubert. Korcia
insinuates himself into the School of Django and Steph in the two pieces
associated with the Quintet of the Hot Club of France, Minor Swing
and Tears. To be more stylistically precise, Korcia is not quite
in the Grappelli mould - he’s more in the line of astringent, asymmetric
improvisers such as Grappelli’s colleague and contemporary, Michel
Warlop. He espouses, with the composer on board, Michel Portal’s melancholic
Minor Waltz, and plays Ravel’s Blues (from the Sonata)
with a slightly-too-knowing nonchalance. Debussy’s Sonata is the only
full-scale work in this disc, and doesn’t sound especially Gallic
in tone or ethos here. The portamenti sound a touch self-regarding and the
rhythmic basis of the music is fidgeted with. The finale is exaggerated
in all respects. Not a success.

He’s much better and more natural in the Piazzolla-like Minor Tango,
his own composition. The Wieniawski is beset with excessive vibrato usage
from both Korcia and Nemanja Rudulovic, qualities that attend the four Bartók
duos they play as well, which both musicians take by the scruff of its neck.
The Klein Duo is better perceived, and Legrand’s Umbrellas
is charmingly done. The disc ends with chansonnier interpretations from
Aubert, of Denza and Massenet - the results are, to put it mildly, idiosyncratic.

Korcia himself is a thoroughly committed artist at the height of his powers.
He’s a pluralist though on the face of it not an improviser in Nigel
Kennedy’s class or with his stylistic range - though he has, perhaps,
better taste. He’s an uneven chamber player, but as a concerto performer
he has a big presence, makes a big sound and is fearless.

Jonathan Woolf
You’ll never be bored by Korcia - discomfited, occasionally, perhaps,
but not bored.